Alcoves and wandering hands
by Undertaker Lau
Summary: As the Golden Trio is heading to dinner while having a light banter, Harry gets discreetly snatched into one of the alcoves? Who is daring enough to do this to the Boy-Who-Lived? Is it bad that his friends didn't notice him disappearing? A naughty appetiser is about to unfold. (Snarry, 8th year, smut, light M! -warnings inside-, one-shot so complete.)
Disclaimer: I own nothing of this except the narration. The characters and their universe all belong to their owners. I am not making money with this – I mean, come on it'd be ridiculous, right? … Please don't sue me, I'm properly returning the characters once I'm finished with them. Even give them butterbeer to make them feel better.

Rating: M, _please read the warnings_.

Blahblah: And, I'm back! Hope everyone's doing well? Most of you know the drill but I'll still give you a run down below of what to expect.

This is an established relationship story. Harry's an 8th year at Hogwarts, so it is somewhat AU. Story is linked with another one I've written titled The List though you do not need to have read it as this story is mainly a PWP. Oh and, of course, this is EWE too. Mention of Ron/Hermione.

As always, ffnet just throws away some of the way I am arranging the text, so I hope it'll turn out alright.

Also, the person in charge of proof reading my stories is currently unavailable, so any mistakes will be his fault anyway –happily throwing him under the bus-. Though, I do re-read my stories a few times after posting them and correcting what skipped past my previous mistakes' huntings. On with it!

 **Warnings :** Language (F-word in there), relationship between two males (Snarry), a tad bit mentioning of _Teacher/Student kink_ , _**SMUT**_ and _**OBVIOUS PWP**_. **If you are not at ease with** **ANY** **of these topics (let alone together),** **do** **NOT** **read**.

* * *

 **Alcoves and wandering hands**

'All I'm saying, Hermione, is that the returning eigth years could have advanced lectures as far as DADA goes. We've all fought in the Last Battle, seventh year curriculum just does not cut it.'

While on their way to the Great Hall, Ron had taken to whining about how unsatisfying Defense Against the Dark Arts was. Harry sighed. This discution would occupy both his friends for quite some time despite the fact they had been having it for a semester already.

It was Wednesday.

Just like any other Wednesdays this semester, their last lecture of the day happened to be double DADA. It had thus become customary that the red-head would complain about it and that Hermione would, yet again, roll her eyes and slowly explain.

'Ronald, how many times must I say this? We may be eigth years but we never touched upon the seventh year program. Except for some curses and it wasn't even supervised learning! As a matter of fact, that is _precisely_ why we came back to Hogwarts. As happy as I am you are actively seeking knowledge, you've _got_ to understand that programs are here for a reason. We do not make the rules.' _As unfortunate as it sometimes is._ She thought for herself.

The girl grew exasperated with her boyfriend's middle of the week rants. Ron was right, the lectures were terrible. Of course, as Head Girl, she could not say it as plainly as the Weasley did. This was about giving the modicum of respect that a teacher deserved, no matter how disastrous the lectures actually were. Something that obviously eluded the frustrated youngster.

'But, 'Mione..! _You_ 're bored, _I_ 'm bored, _Harry_ 's not even listening anymore!'

'Don't pull me into this!' Harry exclaimed. He did listen properly. Just not for the full two hours. Maybe for half of it... Maybe for half of the half of it all. Maybe for...

' _Point is_ , we're all so, _sooo_ done with that incompetent teacher. Even watching Malfoy's disgusted face as he sits through that darn class, isn't amusing anymore!'

'True enough.' She relented, a sigh escaping her lips. 'I think if he has to listen to one more song, he might just curse the teacher out of the classroom.'

'Well, for once, I'd help the ferret...' Ron grumbled.

How Dumbledore ever deemed it fine to hire a teacher who thought _singing_ his lessons would improve his pupils attention to them was beyond anyone's understanding. McGonagall could not stand the idiot. Not that she would ever admit to it publicly. It was in her icy stare, daggers in her glare and in her tightly pinched lips. She was polite but it was painfully obvious she kept all and any interaction with the Defense professor to a strict professional minimum, struggling to keep a moue of profound dislike out of her face. The man made her like Sibyl Trelawney. She warred with herself not to sneer and throw the man out of the castle.

Suffice it to say, even the sunnily disposed professor Flitwick was two steps away from unleashing his meanest jinxes on the annoyingly buoyant happy pack of nerves that was the sickening humming _mess of a wizard_. Merlin help him if he ever had to sit through more flowery tunes at breakfast.

Quite honestly, only Severus Snape managed to keep the menace at bay as he sat on the other end of the table and made a point to never show up in the teacher's room. The man never said so much as hello to... To... To _whatever in all seven circles of HELL_ was the human shaped, magic bearing... Abnormality of Nature. _That_ would never sit well with him. Thinking of _it_ was bordering on making him physically sick. _That_ was not a wizard, let alone a teacher.

Each and every student was sick and tired of this comedy. True enough, the first lesson was entertaining, even if at the teacher's expense, then as it went on he became the butt of so many jokes, it rapidly stopped being funny. However, as winter holidays and finals approached any last mirth concerning the man had been wiped out in favour of teenage disgust. They held no respect whatsoever for the guy. To think that, as a _teacher_ , he wasn't aware of his students snoring, reading, or of the mere contempt sent his way. Putting it lightly, the poor sod was a living impersonation of the word ' _dense_ '.

Many thought of how sturdy the windows would prove to be if, say, a certain teacher was to _hypothetically_ think about learning how to fly without a broom in an impromptu fashion..? Of course, not all of those who let their imagination run towards this dream were in Slytherin. So very far from it. Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs were leaving deep gouges and scratch marks on the desks because of how impossible the situation was.

'How come the only decent DADA teachers we ever had were Remus Lupin and Snape? Loath as I am to admit it, at least we learnt something with him. Hell, I'm sure we got more out of Lockhart's so called lessons and the man was stuck-up prick.'

Hermione massaged her temples though she could not think of anything to contradict him. How bad could a situation be that Lockhart was a better option? The man had been an utter fraud and had crept Harry out as he desperately tried to get the young man to behave as if they were good friends all year long. The Gryffindor girl stopped and looked around.

'Where's Harry?'

'Maybe he forgot something and went back to the Common Room?'

'Ron, it's _dinner._ What could he _possibly_ need that couldn't wait?'

'Hell, if I know... Let's just walk on. If he doesn't turn up before the meal ends, I'll get him some bread and cheese.'

'A fruit couldn't hurt too.'

'Yes, Hermione. A fruit too. Anything you say as long as we keep going?' Ron gently tugged his girlfriend's arm towards the large doors. 'I'm starving!'

'When are you not? No. Don't answer that.'

* * *

As his friends banter became muted as they walked on, Harry held the person who had grabbed him from one of the numerous dark alcoves and thrown him against the stone wall, at wandpoint. The man -judging from his height- had pressed his hand against his torso while the other still held onto his wrist.

'I suggest you release me at once if you do not want to be badly hurt.' He growled, pressing his wand further into his assaillant's neck. The man only pressed himself against him.

'Are we in a bad mood, Mr. Potter? You do realise that I could have incapacitated you just now? What would you have done if it had been anyone else than me? You could be dead.'

Recognition struck.

'Goddamnit, Severus! I very nearly beheaded you! If it wasn't for the fact that we are on school grounds and that I know the wards were strengthened after the Last Battle, I would have torn you apart with a cutting hex! Those are the only reasons I asked questions first instead of retaliating on instinct alone!'

The war had ended, yet it was difficult to shelf years of defensive and offensive spells combined with quick reflexes. It had saved his life once or twice. Or thrice. -Probaly more if he could bring himself to be honest. However, right now was not the time.-

Those who had not been at the heart of the fight had long since relaxed and stopped thinking about the atrocities that happened on the school grounds and in the whole of United Kingdom at large. A few rogue Death Eaters managed to escape to go on a rampage after their Lord's demise, intent on wrecking hell and killing as many people as possible, wizards and muggles alike. Nobody was safe from their vengeful insanity. It took tremendous effort on the Aurors part to round most of them up.

Even now, some were still unaccounted for. Snape was quite convinced they were bidding their time to come up with a plan to pick up the torch where Voldemort left it. Of course, none of it worried him as no Death Eater was smart enough to be much of a problem when faced with the specially trained Auror division – which basically consisted of Order Members. Bellatrix was no more, Malfoy was a master turncoat and came out unscathed by it all, the man was a _victim!_ Imperiused all this time! _Forced_ to drag his family into those terrible, _terrible_ meetings. _Threatened_ to be executed if they _ever so much as_ _thought_ of going for help or escape. How could he ever, _ever -!-_ put his family - _his own flesh and blood!-_ in such danger?! Theatricals alone should have made any jury suspicious of the blonde. Instead, they granted him pardon. Politics was a Malfoy's true calling, never before had it been so obvious than at the trial.

As for the rest of the Inner Circle... They were either dead or chained in Azkaban cells already. Still, one could not go from suspicious of anyone to a happy-go-lucky idiot overnight. Especially Harry and Severus. No matter that in this instance, overnight was months later.

'We would not want this, would we?'

Severus' hands began to slowly caress Harry up and down. Ghosting over covered flesh, yet impossible to ignore. The Gryffindor could feel his body reacting to his beloved as Severus movements reached more and more of his body. Going from arms to nipples. Sides to inner thighs. Hair raising even under thick wool.

Nails grazed in his neck before fisting the curly black locks at his nape.

Enough for one to pull at, enough for the other to arch his back driving the rough stones deeper into his shoulders. Marks would form. Alabaster skin bruising.

The tie loosened.

The belt hung limply through the hoops.

Finally, a hand palmed him through his jeans. Flesh massaged. Thighs opening, Harry tiptoeing to let himself fall and press into the waiting fingers, wanting more.

 _So much more_...

'Harry...'

'Sev... Sev!' Three days away from his lover were enough for the tension to quickly build up.

He nipped at the offered neck. He panted. Reddened tip. He clawed at the hot flesh. Angry trails appearing already. Voices restrained and bitten lips. Kiss marks. Frotting against one another. Red and pleasure mashed together. The chilled winter draught of the large corridor as a hand sneaked in his boxers.

Were the pants pooling at his feet? When?

Exchanged kisses and soft whispers. Dry hands then cool lube. Precome leaking. Restrained cry.

'Let your voice out, Harry. Let me hear you.'

Hooded jades locked onto ebony eyes. A twist of the wrist, going lower and fondling the testicles. Middle finger strained to stimulate the perineum. Again and again. Up. Down. Jacking off. Loose then tight circling. Again. _Again._

'People.' Hushed voice before a drawn out exhale as his sensitive slit was toyed with. Black eyes scrutinising his every reaction. Never leaving him. Not one place to hide. He was the center of the world. A world about to tip on its axis to crash. Hard. Consuming. Devastating.

 _Exposed_

'Everyone's at dinner Harry. Would you want them to see? Would you want them to behold you in such state? I'll _never_ allow it. I will be the only one to see you coming undone. My touch and your body. _Us_.'

The hand went faster on the turgescent penis. The moist sounds of wet flesh on flesh. Harder tugs and a finger making itself known on the puckered hole. Barely penetrating before pulling out. Enough to push the flesh away then squeeze to retain the finger pad. Retain the amazing feeling of being teasingly opened. Retain the excitement, the promise of later thrusts and stars.

'So... So close...'

Hips against hips. Rutting to relieve the pressure, anything, dear god, _anything_ for a delicious friction. Grunts, lack of oxygen, an added hard member in the hand. This was about getting off. This was about the possession. This was about themselves. This was together. This would end quickly.

'Fuck. Sever-!'

A bite. A finger. A struck nerve. Abandon.

Come splattered on the school jersey. Theirs.

Who thought that food was the only way to satiate hunger?

* * *

The End.

Oh boy, alcoves in a building teeming with angsty adolescents full of hormones... *smh* What were the four founders thinking? Would you say it was intentional on their parts? I rather think it was...

Anyway, that's it for now! I really hope you liked it and thanks in avance for any fave and/or follow. Leave a review if you feel like doing so!

If you want to read the prequel to this story 'The List', you can find it in my profile. What did you think of this OS? Could you tell I wrote it in a slightly different way than my other smuts? Do you have any thoughts on this? Let me know!

Also, should I write other OS out of Harry's list? Some more shameless smexy PWPs? To be clear, I am NOT promising anything here, just putting the idea out there. Do share your feelings with me about this.

Until next time! x

-Damn! Is it me, or are those intros and outros getting longer and longer?-


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